What

As he crouched over his victim's shivering body, tears raced their way down his chin and fell onto the cold pavement. Torn and purpled from his assult; his victim lay cowering.
"Whhy me.." the victim quivered.
"Mister, there's no answer to that" He chuckled, turning and walking towards the worktable. It held a plethora of torture devices- all laid out in neat rows. There was a slight smell lingering above the tools, one very much similar to death. Or so he thought.
His fingers played across the instruments, not knowing which they might land upon.
"This should suffice" His hand wrapped around a small bottle containing a murky looking liquid. Some distant emotion flashed across his face as he turned and walked back to the victim. The liquid was one of his own concoctions.